


We Got What We Wanted

by robertstanion



Series: Black Friday Fics [6]
Category: Black Friday - Team StarKid, The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Angst, Death, F/M, Found Family, Implied Smut, TWs at the start of each chapter, Want, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:35:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23250310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robertstanion/pseuds/robertstanion
Summary: Want. Want is a very strong word. It motivates all your actions and doesn't allow anyone to sympathise with you until you get what you want. Enter Tickle Me Wiggly, a doll. Adults across America began to see what they wanted, and this doll was their one driving force, but for a group of twelve at the mall three minutes to midnight at the end of black friday, they began to ask themselves why? Why were they there? What had driven them? What was their want?
Relationships: Alice & Bill, Becky Barnes/Tom Houston, Carol Davidson/Ken Davidson, Charlotte/Sam, Charlotte/Ted, Emma Perkins/Paul Matthews, Hannah Foster & Lex Foster, Lex Foster & John McNamara, Lex Foster/Ethan Green
Series: Black Friday Fics [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564606
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	1. Becky Barnes

**Author's Note:**

> TWs:  
> Domestic Abuse  
> Assault  
> Stabbing  
> Sl*tshaming  
> (it has a happy ending dw)

Becky Barnes was not an idiot. She never had been, nor would she ever be. She wasn’t an idiot, and it was why, when the whooshing came overhead, she convinced everyone to follow Emma to her crazy biologist’s place. Was this an apocalypse? Was this the start of the third world war? Nobody could tell. Not only was it bad that the phone connections were down, but no one was able to access the truth. Everyone wanted to know exactly what was going on, so they turned to a biologist. But again, Becky Barnes was not an idiot, and she was sure as hell that she’d be able to get through this.

In High School, she was often looked up to due to her looks. She wore short skirts and stockings and blouses that hugged her figure. She was proud of how she looked, so she showed herself off. Defying everyone’s expectations, she still did well in all her lessons. Even though her life seemed time consuming outside of lessons, it certainly wasn’t. The only major thing that happened outside of revising and lessons was the fact she was captain of the cheer team. It’s why she had so much time for her boyfriend at the time, Tom Houston.

She remembered her first date with him. They were in the Lakeside Mall Cineplex seeing some shitty horror film, but they hadn’t cared. They’d been together for a little while, but this was their first official date. They’d sat in seats G-7 and G-8. They were the only ones in that row at the back of the theatre. They were perfect seats, directly in the middle in the dark. It was an amazing experience and neither wanted to take it back. They hardly payed attention to the movie itself as hands became entwined with hands, and soon they hadn’t needed two seats, but instead one. Red lipstick stained Tom’s shirt collar, but he wore it with pride the next day. Becky Barnes was his girlfriend, and Tom Houston was hers.

She remembered cheering for Tom’s first football game with him as the football captain. He was amazing as usual and she cheered her heart out all damn night. They won, of course, and she went back to his house that night. Neither wanted to be separated from each other. They were T+B and they would be together for eternity.

But then they weren’t together for eternity. When Tom was shipped away to Iraq, she was left alone. She focused more on her studies, specifically nursing school. She hadn’t planned to be a nurse, but the guy she was talking to (Stanley) had wanted her to go. In hopes of impressing him, she did. Then came the beach party. Short skirts, short shirts and alcohol weren’t always a good mix, and certainly not this time. Stanley and Becky were hardly even together at this point in time, yet he seemed to dominate her life. He seemed to order her around. Though he’d asked her out five months ago, he seemed to still want to keep the relationship open. She wasn’t dumb enough to see the risks of the relationships, but not smart enough to see the red flags either. So, the fool that she was, agreed to the relationship. On the beach party, with her skirt practically tucked up her ass, she was drunk and flirting with a guy who looked a lot like Tom. It couldn’t be Tom though; he was still in Iraq. The night was cut short when Stanley’s car came driving on to the beach. He screamed at her to get in. As fear enveloped her drunken self, she did. She watched the golden sand become stained red before her boyfriend got in. He scolded her. “You’re mine.” He said. “You’re a slut,” he said, and she was dumb enough to believe him.

But no, Becky Barnes was not an idiot. Nor was she a slut, nor was she a fool. Stanley seemed to think she was, though. At first he joked about it. When she slapped on red lipstick to go drinking with some friends, he joked about it. “You’re not going out in that, are you?” He’d ask. “You’re going to make yourself look like a fool, Becks. And neither of us want that. Go change.” He said as he slid his hand up her skirt. Because of the length, it wa very easy for him to do that. Sometimes she’d say no. Sometimes she’d have to wear more concealer than she’d wanted. Sometimes her friends would wonder why she cancelled so suddenly. She never had the heart to say the truth.

She never had the heart to say no to Stanley, either. When he drove her down to the beach where he’d punched that kid three years ago, her suspicions were raised. She still wore her turtleneck and jeans as she climbed out. They took a stroll, and everything seemed to be going perfectly. For once, he was showering her with compliments, making her feel like a princess, and then she felt loved again. But then when he got down on one knee, she thought about trusting her instincts. She thought about running right there and then, but she still wiped the tears from her eyes and agreed to the marriage. He scooped her up and spun her round as he placed the ring on her finger. When they went home, they had alcohol to celebrate, like they always did when a promotion or large event came into the picture. They celebrated like any normal family. They celebrated until Stanley suggested sex. The idea didn’t appeal to Becky. But he went over the words again. “You’re stupid, Becky.” He said as he pinned her on the couch, his hands desperate to unclasp the belt on her jeans. “You’re mine.” She wore even more concealer the next day.

* * *

The marriage was hosted on the beach. She had to pretend to enjoy herself knowing what was going to come later. He showered her with compliments. He called her beautiful. He only did because the night before she’d changed her hair from her natural red to blonde, just like he’d always wanted. He’d chosen her wedding dress, he’d chosen the rings. It was only lucky she liked the style. They shared their first dance to a song he wanted. She didn’t get a choice. Still, they partied like any normal wedding, and she was Becky Barnes now. This was okay. Then they went home and it started again. He wasn’t convinced he’d liked that day. “You ungrateful whore!” He screamed as he pinned her. She shielded herself, but it wasn’t enough.

Every time after Becky looked at her wedding dress in the closet, she ignored the blood stains that she’d so desperately tried to get rid of.

* * *

For the next ten years of her life, she wore turtlenecks, jeans, and more makeup than she could have ever seen herself wearing in high school. No more red lipstick as it made her seem flirtatious. No more short skirts as it made her seem like she wanted it. No more revealing herself as herself as it made herself seem fake. But no, Becky Barnes was not fake. She was as honest as she could be. Her coworkers began to worry, but she shrugged it off and kept her hair blonde. After all, it was what Stanley wanted.

* * *

Then, when she was 32, news that Tom Houston’s wife, Jane Houston, had died leaving him and his 8 year old son alone. She’d seen the event on Facebook, and she’d swallowed her pride before she confronted Stanley. She wore a black dress that went to her mid-thigh. Her hair was now a brunette type colour. The blonde was slowly fading. She thought she was alone, but when she reached the door, she was met with a “where are you going?” from Stanley. She froze, her hand hovering above the door handle.

“To the funeral of Jane Houston…” She’d replied. He laughed at her.

“You are some idiot if you think I’d let you go to the funeral of _Jane Houston!”_ He approached her. “I’d rather be dead then see you hanging around Tom Houston again! Now get out of that thing and get to the kitchen! I’m starving!”

What Stanley hadn’t expected was her response, which was “no.”

“No?” He’d asked. “What the fuck do you mean no?!”

“I said no.” She repeated calmly. “I’m going to the funeral.”

“Yeah you’re going to a funeral, but not Jane Houston’s!” He shouted and went into the kitchen.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?!” She shouted and followed him. She didn’t seem half surprised to see him come out with a knife. But one thing Stanley had underestimated about Becky was her intelligence. She wasn’t dumb, so she fled.

“Get back here you fucking coward!” He ran after her. It was ironic how they lived just outside a forest. As she ran deeper, so did he. She couldn’t remember how she ended up with the knife, but she did. Stanley should have known better when she stabbed him. It was him who made her go to nursing school, after all. She dropped her wedding ring and never looked back. She may have missed the funeral, but she hadn’t missed her husband. She ran home and locked the doors. For the first time since she was in high school, she smiled a real smile.

* * *

On Black Friday 2018, Becky Barnes had gone to Toy-Zone in a coat and her nurse scrubs at 6:00 AM to get a Tickle-Me Wiggly for Bridget, a girl who had lost her eyesight in an accident, a horrible accident. Then Linda Monroe made up a fuss and it wasn’t fair. Again, they thought she was dumb. They underestimated her there. She called her weak, she called her naïve, but Becky knew better. But maybe she was weak, maybe she was naïve, for when Tom Houston held her shoulder to try and steal her spot in line, she felt her heart skip.

But Becky Barnes wasn’t an idiot. She was in the mall because she’d wanted to help that girl, but she was also drawn to the doll for a variety of other reasons. A cyclical story of their lives had lead them back to G-7 and 8 in the cineplex with Tom having a stab wound in his side. It never stopped her from confessing her love. Their clothes were soon on the floor and they were soon against each other like it had been destined to be.

She’d only wanted to help the little girl, to open her eyes to Wiggly, but she’d refused. Maybe that’s why she’d stabbed herself with the serum, purely because she’d gotten distracted. She’d gotten distracted imagining how it would be if the little girl opened her eyes and got what she wanted from the doll. Becky didn’t know the girl, but Tom appeared to. Still, Becky got distracted by the vision of her distorted want. It’s why she passed out.

But then she was with Linda. They’d finished their little ritual to the doll and Becky was disgusted. She’d shouted at them. She’d been called a coward, but she was lining up her shot. One bullet that sent Linda Monroe to the grave. While the followers mourned their prophet, she regrouped with Tom.

But Becky Barnes was no idiot. She’d followed Tom to safety. While looking back on that past day, she’d realised why she was there. She’d wanted love, and love she got. She went into Lakeside without a family and came out with one. Her old lover and two girls who needed strong parental figures, and Becky would be damned if she didn’t look after the two. Yet she found herself at the gates of a biologist without the urge to want any longer. She got what she wanted, but she knew others hadn’t.


	2. Bill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why Bill Was At Toy-Zone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's mainly just bill being sad i'm sorry :((((( also alice is an angsty teen in this

Bill Simmons was not going to let anyone down again. He’d let someone down once and he’d vowed to never let it happen again. He wasn’t going to let anyone down, and it was why, when the whooshing came overhead, he followed the pack. He followed his friend group to safety with the knowledge this was not letting them down. As confused as he was, he had the same questions running through this head like the rest of them had. Was it the start of world war three? Was it an apocalypse? Was it something else? It was always good to ask questions, in his eyes, but it was hard to find the answers when the phone lines were down. That meant he wasn’t able to focus on work like he usually would. He was with his friends from work and that was the only sense of safety he had left. He had no idea where his daughter was. Hopefully she’d taken the bus to Clivesdale instead of stopping to see Deb again. By now, everyone was desperate to know exactly what was going on instead of any questions being directed against them. But again, Bill Simmons was not going to let anyone down again, and he was sure as hell surviving this.

* * *

In High School, he was often looked down upon due to himself. This was back in the late 90’s, early 2000s so of course, there were still some differences between society. Because of the colour of his skin, he had been bullied for most of his life. Yet Bill was convinced that he enjoyed school. He didn’t. The only reason he even really said that was because he enjoyed the lessons, not the environment. His life shouldn’t be time consuming, yet it was. If he wasn’t doing homework, he was crying. He didn’t have a bad family, of course he didn’t, but the problem that came was that of the fact his family were poor meaning they starved most nights. No, it wasn’t ideal, and it’s why he channelled all his emotions into his work. At least then he was motivated to do something. But even with the little time he had, he still made quite a lot of it up for his friend, Paul.

* * *

He remembered first meeting Paul. It was in his first year of Sycamore and they’d been seated beside each other in English. One particular time stood out for Bill. The memory went as such; he’d been having some trouble understanding the references in one of the extracts they had to study. He didn’t notice the smile on Paul’s face and initially just thought Paul had stolen his work to copy off of, not like there was anything to copy. When he glanced over, he noticed Bill’s sheet was blank compared to Paul’s, which was covered in notes. Bill was going to protest before he saw Paul writing down notes on to Bill’s sheet. Paul smiled as he slid the sheet back over once he was finished and held out a hand. “I’m Paul Matthews,” he ‘d said. Bill took it, reluctant, of course, but he’d still taken it. He shook it nervously.

“Bill Simmons.” He’d said. Bill slowly returned the smile. When the teacher came around to see if everyone had completed the work, she’d began to shout at Bill for getting Paul to do his work for him, but then Paul stepped in.

“He’s had a bad night,” he explained. “He didn’t understand, and he seemed pretty out of it. I’m sorry miss, but if you’re going to give anyone detention, it’ll be me,” he’d said, standing up for Bill. Bill had never had someone stand up for him before. It proved he meant something to someone. Paul Matthews was his friend, and he was Paul’s.

He remembered his and Paul’s first assignment together. It was a chemistry assignment and they were doing something to do with atoms, but neither had payed much attention when the assignment was set. Paul had come around to Bill’s house. His parents were proud of him that he’d gotten a friend and let the two get on with their work. Bill set up his laptop as Paul marvelled at Bill’s posters. Bill felt dread creep up his spine as he watched Paul hesitate on one. “I think these are cool,” Paul said as he sat back down on the bedsheets. “You’re cool,” he’d told Bill, and Bill convinced himself they’d be friends forever.

* * *

The next assignment they had was back in English. They had to study some sort of poem. Excited to share his knowledge with Paul, he’d gotten all his stuff laid out, expecting Paul to show up. However, he received a text from Paul saying he was going down to a party and that Bill should go. They still had another week on the assignment, and his parents were encouraging him to be more social, so he went. He wore a navy shirt and black jeans. He’d turned up expecting flashing lights loud music, but it was anything but. Paul had been the one to invite Bill in. Paul’s hair was tousled, and his collar was askew. Bill could have sworn Paul’s lips weren’t usually that red either, but he didn’t further question it. Eagerly, he pulled Bill inside. “Guys, this is Bill.” Paul had introduced. There weren’t that many people in the circle, but there were certainly more in the room. After a vague few moments of silence, he began to speak again. “From left to right, Bill meet Ted Harris, Charlotte Carter, Sam Lowery, Emma Perkins and Cynthia Jones.” Everyone nodded before returning to the activities they’d previously been doing. Bill took a seat on the floor beside Cynthia who smiled.

“How old are you?” She’d asked. He was 15, his birthday was coming up, so that’s what he told her. She’d smiled. “I’m 15 too.” She said. He looked at her and blinked. She had tanned skin but gorgeous brown curly hair. She had spitting green eyes that would be able to be seen from the other side of the room. She wore flawless makeup. She wore a yellow cardigan on top of a white crop top. She wore a black skirt and white stockings with black flats. She looked like something out of a movie. Cynthia smiled, clearly checking him out. She slid him her number and kissed his cheek when everyone else was busy. Bill didn’t regret going to that party that night.

* * *

But no, Bill Simmons was not going to let anyone down again, nor was he scared, nor was he there to be copied off of. At first, when Bill started gaining more friends, people only used him for homework. They payed him $10 most of the time, but one time Cynthia asked him to do her homework for her and she payed him $60. He was astounded with the money and hadn’t realised how much she’d given him until he’d gotten home. She messaged him saying for him to keep the money, so he did. When Paul finally stood up to those who took advantage of Bill, he was letting people down with unturned assignments. People began to trust him, and Paul had made him lose that trust. It wasn’t as if he had anything better to be doing. It became apparent to Bill that, when Cynthia continued to pay him $10 installs that there was something else going on. At his 16th birthday party, he had music on in the living room. Cynthia was there. She grabbed his hand when everyone was distracted and pulled him aside. “I really like you,” she said. “I want to be your girlfriend,” she continued. Bill was pretty shocked, yet he’d agreed to it. Now he had a girlfriend. He smiled wide as she kissed him. They’d been flirting with each other on and off for quite some time at that point. When Cynthia announced she was going to the bathroom and Bill was ending the party early because he didn’t feel too good, nobody questioned it. They didn’t know Bill and Cynthia’s clothes were on top of each other and they were curled around each other as they slept.

* * *

He remembered getting told the news. A positive pregnancy test. Cynthia had lost all her confidence. He’d taken her hands and kissed her knuckles. She’d immediately began to cry and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back. He wasn’t sure how they’d get out of this one, but they knew they would eventually.

* * *

By the time they were 17, little Alice Rose Mariah Simmons was born. She had tanned skin, like her mother, and beautiful eyes. Bill was instantly a doting dad. Born in 2003, Alice was the best thing to happen to any of them. It was clear she was what was holding the family together. Through unstable finances, they spent most of their money on Alice to keep her alive, but Bill and Cynthia were happy and that was all that mattered.

* * *

He wasn’t going to let Cynthia down. With his palms sweating, he’d taken her out for a stroll at the age of 18 to Oakley Park, one of her favourite places. Alice was babbling in the stroller and Cynthia looked radiant in the light. Bill’s heart was pounding as he stopped in the middle of the path. Cynthia stopped too and looked at him. “Are you okay?” She asked. But when Bill got down on one knee, Cynthia cried “yes!” and they were a found family.

* * *

The marriage was a small ceremony. All their friends from high school were there and Paul was the best man. Bill was 20 when they got married, Paul was 19. Cynthia had worn a pale gold dress instead of the typical white. She’d never liked white dresses. She’d said they were too boring, but it didn’t matter because when she walked down the aisle, nothing else mattered. They said I do and shared kisses under the sun. Their friends and family cheered for them and happy. They thought they’d be together forever.

* * *

For the next ten years of their life, they’d been happy. They’d gone on dates and been a proper family. Then, when Bill turned thirty, Cynthia had gotten drunk. Far too drunk. He’d tried to stop her, but he’d found her kissing another man. Not just gently, but the man was holding her against a wall and his pants were dropped to the floor. Bill had shouted at her the next day and she’d told him to fuck off. He’d said no. “You don’t want to disappoint me, do you, Bill?” she’d said. Boiling with rage, he’d stormed out. Alice had gotten scared and confronted her father asking what it meant. Bill didn’t want to accept the truth. His wife had cheated on him at his thirtieth birthday party. Bill hated parties from then onwards.

* * *

Then, when he was 31, him and Cynthia signed divorce papers. Cynthia got custody of Alice, but Bill was allowed to see her once a week per month. Cynthia stuck her nose in the air and walked out. Bill had fought his case to keep his daughter, but the mother had always won. That night Cynthia moved in with her boyfriend in Clivesdale, and she toom Alice with her. It was the reason he turned up on Paul’s doorstep. “I can’t be alone,” he’d explained. “Cynthia’s gone.” Paul had sat him down and given him water and a pat of back with a series of “it’ll be okay, you’ll find another’s.” Paul let Bill fall asleep on his shoulder that night. Paul didn’t push him.

* * *

For the next year, it was a constant wish to see Alice, and when he did see her for that week, she was always with her girlfriend, Deb. He wished she’d date someone nicer, like Grace Chastity, but Alice thought of Grace as if she were a nerdy prude. Bill had scolded her when she’d talked about another girl like that, but that had sparked a major fight between the two. “I’m glad I live with mom!” Alice had shouted. “I’m glad you’re divorced!” And Alice ran to her room leaving Bill with tears in his eyes. He’d tried not to disappoint her, but maybe if he was a little bit richer, a little bit more cautious, then maybe he could have kept Cynthia as his wife. He was still broken from the divorce and kept his head in his analysis at work. He couldn’t step a foot out of line, or he’d disappoint others. Work. He had to work constantly.

* * *

On Black Friday 2018, Bill Simmons had gone to Toy-Zone on his break at 9:45 to get a Tickle Me Wiggly for Alice. She’d approached him and said she found him pretty cute. If it was what his daughter wished to have, then it’s what his daughter would receive. When he got there, Toy-Zone was shut. He’d have to wait until next Christmas for her to get what she wanted, and Bill wasn’t having that. With a new sense of want, he began to stalk the mall. Dead bodies scattered the floor and blood was splattered on the walls. Bill ignored it. The doll. He needed the doll. It would make Alice happy, and if Alice was happy then Cynthia would be happy and then because Bill made Alice happy, Cynthia would want him back. Yes, that would be the perfect plan. Bill missed Cynthia and Alice and he’d do anything to get them back as his found family. 

But Bill Simmons wasn’t going to let anyone down again. He wasn’t going to stop until he had his hands on a Wiggly. Alice wanted one. If Alice wanted one, then she’d get it. It was his, it was his, it was certainly his, and it belonged to his girl. At one point, he passed a tall teen in a leather jacket. They looked like one of the people Alice hung around with. They went by the name of “Ethan Green,” but Bill had never met him personally. Alice said Ethan’s girlfriend, Lex, worked at Toy-Zone and her manager, Frank, was looking forward to this day. Bill had chuckled into his mug of coffee as he listened to Alice ramble about her friends. Sometimes he had to stop being so judgemental and let his daughter talk to him about her life instead of putting himself forward. Sometimes he had to learn that he had to disappoint to receive credibility.

He’d only wanted his family back, but on Black Friday 2018, he’d gained a lot more. He’d gained knowledge that his daughter didn’t need this damn doll to be happy for she had Deb. He gained the knowledge that he had to let his daughter date who she wanted for he couldn’t control her. He learned that, even though he wanted Alice to date someone else, he wasn’t gonna force her because the person she chose to date made her happy and that was all Bill had asked for.

* * *

But Bill Simmons was not going to let anyone down again. He’d followed the rhythm of the night to the balcony of the Lakeside Mall where he got a shot of the night sky. He’d stood behind a girl wearing yellow plaid and braids and a taller girl in a Toy-Zone uniform. He’d wanted a family and finally found one with his coworkers beside him. He’d followed the crowd to the Biologist’s house and chose to remain quiet because then he knew he couldn’t let anyone down again. When they were allowed inside, he found a tanned girl wearing a pink cardi sat beside another girl wearing green plaid and a yellow beanie. Bill’s eyes widened when the tanned girl stood up and ran into his arms. He’d wanted happiness and got it when he discovered his daughter was safe. That’s all he’d ever wanted. He was loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (sike there's a happy ending)


	3. Charlotte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why was Charlotte at the mall?  
> Featuring:  
> Charted  
> Samlotte

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs:  
> Domestic Abuse  
> Miscarriage

Charlotte Lowery was not unfaithful. She never had been, nor would she ever be. She wasn’t unfaithful, and it was why, when the whooshing came from overhead, she followed everyone with her hand secure in her lover’s. She was frightened, but she knew her husband would be on patrol that night. He always was on Black Friday. He always had to be. He had to so he could ‘earn extra money,’ though now she wasn’t so sure that was the case. She’d heard whispers and theories from around the group. It was a cloudy day, so nobody got a good look at what had made the noise. Was it the apocalypse? Was this the start of a third world war? A UFO? Military jets being sent to combat Russia? Nobody could tell. She’d tried to check her phone but was unsuccessful when she realised the phone lines were down. The last time the news had been updated was 2PM earlier in the day, and now everyone was desperate to know what was happening. They found themselves loaded in several cars between them. She was with Ted, Bill and Mr Davidson. They were now turning to Emma’s kooky biology professor. They all had questions that needed answering. Yet Charlotte couldn’t help thinking of other matters. Again, Charlotte Lowery was not unfaithful, and she was sure as hell that she’d be able to get through it.

* * *

In High School, she was often looked down upon, like most of the students who went to Sycamore. She’d never enjoyed her company and tended to avoid mirrors if possible. She hated her face shape as well as her body. To fight her disgust, she ensured she wore long skirts and baggy jumpers to hide any insecurity which may occur. Her hair shaped her face and the minimum amount of makeup did the best to hide her acne. Being the quiet one in class, she was able to listen and complete the work in record time. She was a good student and a representative for Sycamore which made it seem like a better school than it already was. In her free time, she often sat about on the bleachers at school studying or reading. One day, she’d forgotten about the game between Sycamore and Hatchetfield High, the rivalling school, so when she’d taken her seats on the bleachers much earlier in the day, she began to get nervous when crowds began flooding in to the playing field. She had to move around a lot so friends could sit with friends, but she never minded. It was only when the football team came running out on to the pitch that she’d realised what was happening. She began to get nervous and packed her things away, zipping up her denim bag. When she looked up again, she locked eyes with a player with the rivalling school who would soon become known as Sam Lowery.

She remembered when they first talked. She had immediately left after the game had ended, but she’d made the decision to stay and watch after he’d seen her notice her in the crowd. She thought she was going insane when she heard footsteps running behind her, but when she stopped, she noticed the blonde from the other school chasing towards her. He was caked in sweat and also extremely muddy from the wet pitch, but still, he seemed to wake something up inside of her. He’d soon caught up to her and they were walking alongside each other. She was getting stares in the corridor. Everyone was thinking the same thing. Who would want to notice Charlotte Carter? She was thinking that, but the player continued to walk. She approached her locker at the end of the school day and waited. He stayed beside her. “My name’s Sam Lowery,” he’d said. “I couldn’t help but notice a rose like you sitting amongst all those thorns.” He’d said. She’d blushed at that comment. He’d grabbed some old paper from her locker, ripped part of it off, and stuck it to the magnet inside. It had his number with the caption of _call me._ That’s what she did all night.

* * *

She remembered her first date with him. He’d picked her up late in the afternoon. He’d asked where she’d like to go. She hadn’t really minded, so they settled on the meadows on the outskirts of Hatchetfield just outside Pinebrook. He’d driven her there. She thought it was cool how he had his license. She’d been too much of a coward to get hers, or that’s what the majority of the school had told her. He’d parked and taken her hand as they walked out of the car. He’d grabbed a blanket and sat down with her in the shade of a tree. They didn’t know what tree it was, but it was very beautiful. She could feel Sam watching her look at the variety of flowers. He’d plucked one from the ground and slid it behind her ear. “You’re a pretty flower,” he’d said. “Want to do this again?” She’d nodded.

This continued for a couple more dates before they confirmed themselves as an official couple, which took the school by shock. Everyone had gawked at her when Sam Lowery from Hatchetfield High had driven her to school once. He was known for being ruthless and uncaring, yet when they saw him partnered with a girl who wore pastel pink and constantly blushed at a minor compliment, they thought there was more to him than they let on. Some girls were angry. Sam Lowery was also known for being one of the most attractive teenagers in Hatchetfield and for him to date someone like Charlotte Carter wasn’t good enough. Charlotte felt incredibly out of Sam’s league by miles. She definitely wasn’t the prettiest girl in Hatchetfield, yet she chose to think that Sam liked to think she was. But nobody ever considered it more than twice. Sam was hers, and she was Sam’s.

She’d gone to what had been labelled a study party with Sam, but when she arrived, there were red solo cups laid out on the side and a bottle in the centre of the floor. Emma Perkins, another girl from Hatchetfield High, was already sat beside Paul Matthews, a taller boy from their school. He was in her year, yet they’d never spoken. There was a girl with tanned skin sitting beside a guy wearing an olive shirt, who had slicked back hair. Sam wrapped an arm around her waist. “Char, these are my friends from HH, Cynthia and Ted.” Ted nodded towards Charlotte and Cynthia only smiled. “I’m sure you’ve heard about Emma, and I’m sure you’ve met Paul.” She nodded as he sat her on the floor in front of the bottle. “We’re going to play this, Char. I want you to participate.” He’d said. She felt she had no choice because it was one of the only times she’d get to impress him. They’d spun the bottle and it had landed on her and Sam. He’d cupped her cheek and kissed her. That had been her first kiss. People had cheered for them and she’d pulled away smiling. She hoped to have satisfied Sam. The game proceeded until Bill arrived. She’d lay her head on Sam’s shoulder. This was where Charlotte had dreamed of being, and it was perfect for her.

* * *

They’d graduated. Sam had been in the audience with Hatchetfield High graduating the week prior. He’d cheered for her and she’d smiled. She’d hugged him tight after the ceremony and he’d taken her to his car. They had been perfect, so so perfect. It’s why she was surprised when they found themselves back at the flower field. She wasn’t upset, but it was certainly a shock. It was an even bigger shock when Sam got down on one knee. “How did you afford this?!” She’d asked as she clasped a hand over her mouth, tears threatening to spill.

“Don’t you worry, darling.” He’d said. She’d accepted the ring nearly immediately, and with that they were engaged.

They’d only been young, but they certainly hadn’t been naïve. They’d met the parents in August. Charlotte’s parents doted on Sam. They’d said he was a perfect fit for her. It was a shame Sam’s parents thought she wasn’t good enough. “Makeup hides natural beauty,” they’d said. “Sam says you pretty, but under all those clothes, you don’t appear to be,” they’d said. Sam had shouted at them then.

“She’s beautiful!” He’d said as he squeezed her hand. “You just want me to marry a rich girl!” He’d stood her up and took her back out to this car. He’d hugged her and let her cry into him. “I’m sorry, petal,” he’d said. “I didn’t realise they’d be so unaccepting. You’re perfect, understood?” She had understood, but it didn’t mean that she’d believed it. But Sam believed in her, and it was enough.

* * *

For the next four years of her life, they’d planned the wedding. Every inch of it had to be perfect. Of course, they’d had setbacks, such as financial troubles and fights. Things soon cleared up when Sam got his dream job as a cop and she joined CCRP and they’d settled down into their relationship. The wedding became their main focus again. They’d invited friends and family and they hadn’t held back on the cost. They’d gotten married in the flower field while she carried a bouquet of pink roses. She’d walked down in a white wedding dress to keep things traditional. Sam had cried when she’d reached him at the end of the aisle. They’d said their vows and danced the night away before they went home. Everything had been perfect, and she knew she’d never be unfaithful.

* * *

They’d tried for a baby not long after the wedding. They spent most nights in bed. They both wanted half of each other running around the house. Sam said she wanted a baby girl so that it could be a copy of the woman he loved the most. She’d said she wanted a son as boys were easier to deal with. That part was true. Every time the tests came back negative and Sam began to get frustrated. She was determined to have a baby with him. She was, she was, she was.

* * *

She remembered the first time they had a fight since their wedding. It was rough and it resulted in Sam coming back drunk. He’d thrown his shirt in the wash and wished death upon her. When she’d put the shirt in the wash, she noticed lipstick on the collar. Charlotte never wore red lipstick. She swallowed her guilt and stopped herself from crying as she looked at Sam, who was still asleep. She didn’t question it any further as she put the shirt in the wash. She didn’t question him, and he didn’t question her. Maybe it was a one-time thing. Maybe it wasn’t, but either way, Charlotte remained faithful.

* * *

When she was 28, she met Ted. She met Ted again for the first time since High School. He’d appeared to have matured. He’d settled into his face and had grown a moustache. He still wore an olive coloured shirt, though, and kept his hair slicked back, but something in Ted must have woken something up inside of her. She was wearing a baby blue cat sweater with a floral skirt. Sam had left for work early that day and she’d been left alone. She’d panicked and reverted back to her old ways. Ted had seen her and smiled. “You look radiant,” he’d said. “Come to beanies?” So, she did.

Sam and her had another fight not too long after. He’d been physical that time. “My parents were right!” He’d screamed at her. “You’re fucking ugly!” And then he’d hit her. He wasn’t drunk, and he’d hit her. Charlotte squeaked and stumbled back as she clutched her cheek. She’d looked him in the eye, and there was no sign of mercy in his. Tears had flooded her own and she’d turned her back on him. She’d texted Ted that night and he’d invited her round. “Where are you going?” He asked gruffly, whiskey in hand.

“Work.” She replied and slammed the door on her way out. She hadn’t meant to, but she was in pain. She’d driven over. Ted was waiting with open arms. She’d crumpled as she fell in to him.

“We’ve become so distant, Ted…” She’d sniffed as he’d hugged her, the door closing behind them. “There’s lipstick on his collar, I’ve seen it. And then he slapped me-“

“He slapped you?” he asked and raised an eyebrow. She wiped her tears.

“It’s fine, he’s had a rough day.”

“Charlotte, having a rough day isn’t an excuse for slapping your wife.” He said and caressed her cheek. “Come sit down. I have alcohol.”

When Charlotte woke up, she was naked beside Ted, and it was in that moment she realised she hadn’t been faithful.

* * *

The next year, Charlotte had fallen pregnant. Yes, Sam and her had had sex a few days ago…but she was three weeks gone, according to the pregnancy test. She’d sat there crying. It was Ted’s baby. Still, she’d told Sam and she saw the old glint in his eye return. “You’re pregnant?” He asked. She’d nodded, but he’d smiled. “Charlotte! This is amazing news!” He’d scooped her up and hugged her. He’d actually payed attention to her that night. Then she’d told Ted.

“It’s mine?” He asked as his voice lilted over the phone. “Char I-I can’t be a dad!”

“You don’t have to, but I just needed you to know.” And she hung up.

The next month she’d miscarried. Sam had gotten drunk when he found out and destroyed the nursery they’d set up. Charlotte got out of the house with a packed bag and driven to Ted’s. He hadn’t said anything but held her in his arms. She hadn’t cried, but she’d curled up beside him. “Leave that asshole.” He’d said. “Char, there are guys who’ll treat you like a million dollars.” She’d laughed at that.

“Like who?” He hadn’t replied, but she’d met his eyes. _He meant him._

* * *

The next year, on Black Friday 2018, Charlotte Lowery had had a fight with Sam in the evening, so she’d gone to Ted’s. She’d woken up because Sam kept talking about those dolls that kept being advertised so she went to go and get one. To her demise, her and Ted had fought. She didn’t belong to either of them, so when Ted even implied it, she’d turned her nose and left. When she’d gotten there, there was an old man trying to pay for all the dolls. She’d decided to wait, but then people were killing each other for one. She’d managed to grab one, but it had soon been ripped from her, so she followed the pack as she remained faithful. One of Sam’s coworkers seemed to be under the same spell as she. Unfortunately for her, she’d soon had it ripped from her, and she found herself regrouped with old friends.

But Charlotte Lowery was not unfaithful. She was in the mall to begin with to satisfy her husband but left empty handed. Her story had started with happiness, ended in betrayal, and started again when Ted took her hand as the clock ticked down to an end. The whooshing came overhead, and she’d looked at Ted. He nodded at her and wrapped his arm round her waist. She had no idea whether Sam survived, but she did the best thing she could and took her ring off her hand, throwing it off the balcony. Ted had smiled and kissed her cheek as they all exited the burning mall unscathed.

She’d sat in the car beside him on the way to the professor’s house. They were all guided to rooms and Ted didn’t let her go. The kisses they shared that night were bittersweet. She looked up to him. “I love you, Ted Harris.” She said and he smiled wide, laying her on the bed. They didn’t have sex, but they did stay in each other’s arms.

Charlotte Lowery remained faithful to those who loved her. And that didn’t include Sam anymore. But that definitely did include her Ted.


	4. Emma Perkins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why was Emma at the mall at the end?

Emma Perkins was not hurting. She hadn’t been for a long time, and she didn’t think she would be in the upcoming years. She’d been through too much to care about the whooshing that came overhead. She didn’t care about whether it may be an apocalypse, the start of a third world war or some other worldly alien shit, she just knew she had to get the group to safety. She’d suggested the idea of going to Hidgens’ place and now everyone was following her lead as if she was a born leader. She wasn’t, but it didn’t matter because under no circumstance was Emma Perkins hurting, and she was sure as hell she was getting through this batshit scenario.

* * *

She’d been through much worse. High school was a prime example. Jane was alive in high school, so she tended to try and forget those years, yet she found it more difficult as she avoided the memories. As she found herself trying to avoid the past, she found herself trapped in it. She was ignored at school but looked down at home. Her parents were assholes and they favoured her older sister over her. Of course they did. Jane was the prettier one. She had the better grades. Emma was, clearly, the mistake. She looked nothing like the rest of her family. Emma had tanned skin and curly brown hair. Jane had straight auburn hair with beautiful green eyes. Her parents, though tanned, had chiselled jawlines and perfect figures. Emma was flat and didn’t have anything to show. It pissed her off a lot. It’s why she kept her head into studies as it was her only distraction.

* * *

She went to Hatchetfield High. Her parents weren’t the richest, yet they still sent their kids to the best school’s money could buy. Emma would have much preferred going to Sycamore. Sycamore seemed much more fitting for her. Most of the students were high in Sycamore, so Emma believed she’d fit right in. That’s all she’d ever wanted, to fit in. She never got the chance though. She went through her years at Hatchetfield High alone. Everyone in that school knew about her reputation. They all steered clear of her, not that she cared.

In January of 2003, she’d been invited to a study party at Cynthia’s place. Cynthia lived in a high-end area of Hatchetfield, so for Emma to even get invited was a big deal. She’d chosen to go. There were red solo cups lay out on the sides. It was unfortunate that Emma misunderstood what was in the cups. Emma was the type of person who just drank. She forgot about what was usually in red solo cups at parties. By the time other people arrived, she was already wasted. For a while, it was just Cynthia and her. Then, Emma didn’t remember how long it was, but two guys turned up. They were both of similar heights, around 6”. One wore a white shirt and blue jeans while the other had his hair slicked back and wore an olive shirt. Emma didn’t remember their names. She didn’t care. The one in white sat next to her and she offered a drunken smile. She couldn’t remember if he smiled back. Cynthia had put the empty glass bottle on the floor, and she’d taken a seat. She’d spun it and Emma knew what this was. Cynthia had spun the bottle and it had landed on the guy beside her and her. She turned to the boy in the white shirt and hadn’t hesitated to kiss him, a hand in his hair, unbuttoning his shirt with the other. One had whistled at them, but he’d kissed her back, so it was okay. She hadn’t blushed but wiped the lipstick off with her mouth when she sat back up. The doorbell rang and the boy stood up, answering the door. Another with a navy shirt and black jeans walked in. His name was…Will? She couldn’t remember. But she would admit, this was the best party she’d been to in a long long while.

She remembered her last show of Brigadoon. She was wearing cheap clothes, and it was her final show. It was the only one she’d actually warmed up for. Her parents were seeing that show. She was 16 and she sang her heart out on show, even if she despised the fact she was one of the mains. At one point, she caught a boy’s eye. He was wearing a white shirt that gave her a sense of familiarity, yet she couldn’t put her finger on it. Instead of delving on the subject, she chose to continue with the show.

* * *

She remembered when she left for Guatamala. Her and her parents had had a fight that night and Jane hadn’t done anything. She’d always known it but had chosen to ignore the fact she was irrelevant. Using all her money, she’d booked her ticket and gotten in a cab that night. She left for Guatamala and never turned back. She loved the pictures of the scene and thought she’d be there for eternity.

But then she wasn’t there for eternity. She’d picked up the phone that time and wished she hadn’t. “Jane’s dead,” he’d said. She hadn’t believed him at first, so she laughed.

“You’re fucking with me.” She’d said as she sat on the couch.

“I know you’ve thought of your entire life as a joke, Emma, but we were in a car crash last night. I got out unscathed. She got hit. She died.” He’d said, broken over the phone. Then it hit. Emma didn’t reply but instead she hung up. She collected the rest of her savings together and left Guatamala for good. After all, she was broke after that.

But no, Emma Perkins was not hurting. Nor was she broken or in need of help. She hadn’t cried at Jane’s funeral, and she didn’t when she got back to her apartment. Instead, she looked for jobs and signed up for the community college. At least then she knew she would be making Jane proud. She’d wasted the rest of her savings on this shitty apartment, which was run down, but Emma didn’t care. She deserved this lifestyle seeing as she hadn’t gone to Jane’s baby shower, her wedding, she hadn’t even stuck around after the funeral to meet her brother in law and her nephew. She didn’t want to. When the email came back confirming she’d been accepted to Beanies, she’d smiled. Things had looked on the bright side.

* * *

Life soon caught up to her. The biology course was stressful, and she was on minimum pay. She could hardly afford to eat most days as she saved up every nickel to pay rent. She never slept as she studied, determined to get good grades. She didn’t stop and ran on coffee. It was fairly ironic, seeing as she now worked as a barista, but it wasn’t as if anyone was there to laugh at the joke with her. She’d sworn she’d never return to Hatchetfield, yet there she was.

Her biology professor was pretty cool. There was something about Henry Hidgens that made him understand her. She couldn’t remember how, but she soon became close with him. They shared lunches and became each other’s only friend. But she noticed the signs in him of malnourishment and exhaustion. For a man of his age, it wasn’t healthy. To motivate him, she’d bought him groceries and gone around to his fortress of a house. He’d let her in, and she’d set the groceries on the side. “What’s this?” He’d asked. She’d smiled and explained. He’d hugged her and tried to hide the fact he was crying. For once, Emma felt wanted. “Emma, you needn’t have,” he’d said, but she’d ignored him. If the two hadn’t have been close before, they were closer than ever now.

* * *

And then some time, in April of 2018, she’d seen a man in a brown blazer with neat brunette hair wearing a white shirt and a black tie walk through with a guy wearing an olive shirt and a girl wearing a blue cat sweater. There was a sense of de ja vu that lingered with the man, but Emma chose to ignore her. The man in the suit went pale when he saw her, causing the other guy to laugh. “He’ll have coffee, black. But I’ll have your number,” he’d said. She’d rolled his eyes and went to get their drinks. She’d spat in the chai iced tea. He didn’t deserve it.

But then he asked her out. Not the sleazeball, who’s name had come to front as Ted. Paul. Paul Matthews, the guy who always seemed to wear white shirts and combed every hair into place. That’s who. From April to August, the two had made little conversation, complaining about their coworkers and customers and she served him. Conversations never last more than a few minutes, though. Until one day in August where he’d stumbled on his words. She hadn’t caught it the first-time round, so she’d leant against the counter and watched him as he spoke, avoiding her eyes. “I was wondering if you’d have liked to have gone on a date with me…tomorrow afternoon maybe?” She’d smiled and nodded.

The date was one of the nicest things she’d ever gone on. He may have stuttered all the way through it and have been a blushy mess all the way throughout it, but she hadn’t stopped grinning. He was adorable, and she hadn’t realised how attracted she was to him until that moment. They’d exchanged numbers and this continued for the next few months.

* * *

The night before Black Friday, her and Paul had shared another date, except this time he was round at hers. They were sat on her bed and he was kissing her neck when she’d received a text off of her brother in law. She’d sighed. “I’ve been invited to my brother in law’s for Black Friday tomorrow. He says he spent tonight with his son, that’s why I’m not there.” She’d said. Paul had pulled away and looked at her.

“Is this Tom Houston?”

Emma had nodded and leaned against him. “I’ve never properly met him…”

“Would you like for me to be there?” He’d offered and wrapped an arm around her. She’d looked up with wide eyes and nodded. She’d then pushed him back on to the bed and kissed him hard. Neither held back that night.

They’d woken up at 5:30 and Emma had fallen asleep again. Paul hadn’t wanted to wake her, so by the time they were out the house, it was 6. They’d waited for Starbucks to open so that was another twenty minutes wasted. It was 6:30 by the time they’d even reached Tom’s, and he wasn’t impressed. She hadn’t taken Paul’s hand as she walked in to greet her nephew. She flashed a smile his way. “Hey Tim!” She’d started and caught his attention.

“Hi Aunt Emma!” He said and grinned equally.

“We missed you yesterday, but I heard you and your dad did something pretty cool…Pizza Pete’s?” She said and Tim nodded eagerly as Paul went along with the act.

“Pizza Pete’s?! That is cool!” Paul had exclaimed as well.

“Who are you?” Tim asked and Paul smiled.

“I’m Paul. I’m Emma’s…boyfriend.”

Emma had laughed then. “Well, we haven’t put a label on it yet.”

“But we are intimate!” Paul was quick to add on. Emma looked at him with wide eyes, pleading with him to try and act normal. “You know uh, Tom-Tim, I used to love Pizza Pete’s when I was a kid! I used to love the ball pits and the bumper cars!”

“Yeah, I don’t really like getting hit by cars anymore.” Tim said and at once, his smile was gone. Emma had sighed as Paul went red.

“Oh…uh because of the uh…okay…”

Luckily, Emma had salvaged the conversation, but not her bond with Tom. When Tom left the house, she was alone with Tim. “So, Tim? How about a game of Mario Kart?”

* * *

Throughout the day, her, Paul and Tim played a series of different games and watched a series of DVDs. That was until the phone lines cut off after a news announcement stated that this Black Friday was a Black Friday from hell. The last they’d heard was whether the nation were awaiting President Howard Goodman to declare a state of emergency, but nothing got done. The lines came back momentarily to announce Lakeside Mall was in flames. She’d looked at Paul and stood up. “Emma-“ he’d said, and she had tears in her eyes.

“Paul, he’s fucking gone okay?! I’m not just gonna sit here and let it affect Tim as it affected me when his mother died okay!? He deserves one fucking thing and it’s to have a nice damn family!” She said as she wiped her eyes. He’d tried to hug her, but she’d dodged it and started packing things up. “Tim? Come on, bud! We’re gonna get out of town! I’ll get us plane tickets when we’re at the airport!”

“Where’s dad?!” He’d asked as he’d ran in the room.

“Oh Tim…” she’d said and hugged him. “The mall’s on fire. He may not have gotten out…”

“No!” He’d said and hugged Emma. “No please we gotta go to the mall please!”

“Okay okay bud, okay. Can you take a breath? We’ll go check and go pick up your father if he’s there.”

It took a little while before her and Tim had calmed down. Her and Paul found themselves sitting in silence as they drove over. Part of the mall was now blazing down when they’d gotten there. When all hope was lost, she went to turn around until Tim had screeched about his father. She looked out and she’d halted the car. She’d gotten out the car and ran up, closely followed by Paul. Tom was alive. She could have cried with glee, but she wasn’t hurt.

* * *

No, Emma Perkins wasn’t hurting. She was the one who lead everyone to safety. She’d gotten everyone back in the cars and driven to Hidgens’. “Who is it?!” He’d shouted.

“Professor Hidgens!” She’d shouted through the speaker, drumming her hand against her thigh nervously.

“Don’t lie to me whoever you are! I’m Professor Hidgens!”

“No, professor! It’s Emma Perkins! Hatchetfield’s gone mad and it’s been a long long day so please can I come in?!” It was lucky for her that the gate opened. As soon as she saw the silver haired professor, she’d melted into tears and into his arms. No, Emma Perkins may not have been hurting then, but in the arms of her father figure with a scare she’d lost another member of her family, maybe she could accept that she was hurting just a little bit.


	5. Hannah Foster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why Hannah was at Toy-Zone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Ethan Green dying, mild mentions of abuse, bullying

Hannah Foster was not crazy. She never had been, nor would she ever be. She wasn’t crazy, and it was why, when the whooshing came from overhead, she knew exactly what it was. Shaking, and clutching her sister’s hand, she crouched to the ground, one hand over her head. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she felt herself scooped up. She was with the scene, but she was distant. Her heartbeat was muffling any other sounds as she tried to reassure herself. She didn’t have Ethan’s magic hat anymore, so if this was the start of world war three, nothing could protect her. Phone connections had been down, so when they’d arrived at Henry Hidgens’ home, she was scared and whimpered more, wanting to be with Ethan in the Cineplex again. But again, as stated before, Hannah Foster was not crazy, and with Webby’s help, she was sure she’d get through this.

All her life she’d been looked down upon. At a few weeks old, after her mother had gotten drunk, she’d been dropped on her head. Her older sister, Lex, who was ten at the time, had picked her up and cradled her until she stopped crying and became her mother figure. She’d been there to hear Hannah’s first word, which was ‘Lexi,’ and she’d also been there to calm Hannah’s nerves. Even as she was growing up, she realised her misfortune. She’d be dragged to the store with her mother and ask for new shoes if hers were getting too small, only to be slapped. Residents of the town watched on and scoffed, but not at the mother’s action, at Hannah. The town was relatively small, so news spread like wildfire, and they all tried to stay clear of Hannah.

When Hannah started going to school, she drew spiders a lot. She would be found on the grass playing with bugs and talking to herself. She was five when she was called crazy for the first time, and she didn’t know what it meant. She was only talking to herself, she was in her own little bubble, why was it affecting others? She continued her routine. At break, she’d go out to the playground and sit on the grassy area, and if the grass was damp and she didn’t want to get her clothes wet, she’d sit on the tarmac. Spiders seemed to find her more than Hannah found them, and she liked to hold them. People laughed at her, pointing and jeering names, but she ignored it. She was five, and she was herself. It wasn’t fair, however, when Lex came to pick her up, and she had the widest grin on her face, only to hear someone call her ‘crazy’ from across the way. Hannah didn’t know what crazy meant, but by the fact people liked to laugh at her after she got called it, she could only assume it wasn’t good.

When Hannah didn’t have a good day, it would be Lex to comfort her, because their mother didn’t bother. She wished she could have her older sister come to school with her, beat up the bullies until they knew who was boss, but Lex had her own life too. Like other teenagers, Lex started getting into boys. One time, she came home with a necklace on that she hadn’t gone to school wearing. Hannah tilted her head when she saw it, and Lex said that her friend Ethan had gotten it for her. Hannah had never heard of Ethan before, but by the necklace, which didn’t look cheap, she gathered he had lots of money. Maybe Ethan would be the prince Lex told her about in all her bedtime stories.

She remembered meeting Ethan for the first time. She was six years old, the bullying had gotten worse, and she’d been picked up from school after having a severe panic attack that left her nearly sick. Lex carried her out. Usually, Lex would carry her home, walking by foot, but today wasn’t one of those days. Hannah had been carried to a black car, and Hannah was placed in the back, Lex climbing in beside her younger sister. She heard Lex mutter, “drive,” and the driver nodded. Hannah didn’t recognise the setting and immediately began to panic, tugging on the seatbelt as her chest got tighter, another panic attack on the rise. Lex nodded and held her tight. “You’re okay, Hannah, this is my friend, Ethan. He’s gonna drive us home. He’s nice, I promise.” Even though Lex’s words should have been comforting, Hannah shook her head violently, clasping her hands over her ears. She was scared. She was really scared, and she couldn’t do anything about it. But Ethan drove her home, and came in the caravan. Lex had to go get water, so it was Hannah and Ethan alone. Hannah was nervous, but Ethan understood.

“You’re Hannah?” He started and Hannah tensed up. “I won’t hurt ya.” He said. “Hey, Lex tells me that you’re nearly seven? That’s a big number. Do you wanna know how old I am?” This caused Hannah to look up at the taller man with wide brown eyes. She could see the gentle smile on Ethan’s face. “I’m seventeen years old. That’s ten more than seven. That’s an even bigger number.” He moved to face her. “Do you know that me and Lex are saving up to get out of Hatchetfield?” Hannah shook her head and looked at Ethan, her face asking for more information. “Yeah. And we’re gonna take you with us. Away from your stupid mom and away from your stupid school.”

“Crazy.” Hannah sniffed and wiped her eyes.

“Who’s crazy?”

“People…say Hannah crazy…”

“The people at school?” Ethan asked, and Hannah nodded. “Well, they’re dumb as shit.” Hannah smiled then and shuffled closer to him, leaning against his chest in a half-hug, and Ethan swung his arm around her. “Life’s shitty, but you’re not. And neither is Lex, and neither am I. So we’re gonna get the fuck-“

“Ethan!” Lex cursed as she walked back in. “Don’t corrupt my sister. She’s six.” She said before she saw the scene and smiled gently. “She doesn’t ever do that.” And Hannah smiled too, burying into Ethan’s side.

Ethan came over a lot more after that, sealing his and Hannah’s bond. Sometimes he bought chocolate, sometimes he bought jewellery for Lex, sometimes he bought toys for Hannah. Hannah liked having Ethan around. He was fun and understanding, and super cool. She followed him around the house like a dog, holding on to a stuffed toy sometimes and trailing behind him. She’d look up at him with those big, wide, brown eyes she had and he’d look back, over his shoulder, as he made him and Lex coffee. He’d lift her up and set her on his hip, and she’d snuggle into his neck. He’d talk gently to her as she watched what he was doing. She admired Ethan and how he did everything. Ethan was smart. She wanted Ethan to stay forever. Ethan was like her paternal figure, and she loved him like no other, as a best friend, and a brother. People criticized the Foster family for letting this man in their house. Hannah was six, she didn’t know what a ‘druggie’ was or what ‘shoplifting’ was either, so she didn’t understand why people hated Ethan so much.

But no, Hannah Foster was not crazy. Nor was she out of place, nor was she stupid. She was unique, and Ethan told her that a lot, calming her down after a long day. Hannah got called crazy a lot more as she grew up. She shouldn’t be hurting as much as she was, and she hid it, but there was one time she couldn’t hide her pain, and that was when one boy at her school decided to hurt her. She got punched pretty hard on her chest, hard enough she started bleeding. She didn’t know she’d started bleeding, and nobody took notice until Lex picked her up. She gasped and Hannah didn’t understand what was wrong when she started crying to Ethan over the phone. By the time they got back to the trailer park, Ethan was at the caravan. “Lex, breathe, I’ll take care of her.” He’d said. Lex handed Hannah over to Ethan and Ethan smiled gently. “Lex’s gonna go take some time to herself. So let me take care of you.” He said softly as he sat her down. “You’ve got a little bit of blood on your shirt, so I’m gonna take it off of you.”

“No look.”

“No look.” Ethan repeated and shut his eyes, helping Hannah out of her stained shirt. Hannah knew Ethan as the boy with the funny colours around his waist. So when she opened her eyes and she was in yellow plaid that was far too big for her, and Ethan wasn’t wearing a funny colour around his waist, she got confused, but she didn’t mind. Ethan hugged her gently. “You’ll never get hurt again.” 

She remembered when Lex and Ethan kissed for the first time around her. She’d been seven and had had a nightmare. When she walked in, Ethan was lying on the couch, some shitty sitcom on in the background, and Lex was lying on top of him. Ethan was holding Lex close to him, Lex’s legs wrapped around Ethan. Hannah knew what kissing was, but she’d never seen someone kiss before. She was shocked and stood holding her blanket at the door frame. She watched Lex pull away and smile down at Ethan before resting her head on Ethan’s chest, looking at Hannah. “Hannah?” She asked, softly, and Hannah swallowed.

“Nightmare…”

Lex smiled gently and held her arm out to her younger sister, who walked over and lay on the couch beside Ethan and Lex, melting into a hug from the two teens. She didn’t know if Lex and Ethan were boyfriend and girlfriend, but Lex was smiling again, and that was a good thing.

* * *

For the next two years of her life, she had to put up with her mother’s taunts and abuse, and having to watch her big sister get hurt. Ethan came round a lot more, or they went round to Ethan’s. Hannah didn’t understand. Lex always assured Hannah that she was okay, but she used to cry whenever Ethan hugged her. Hannah didn’t understand. If someone was okay, they weren’t supposed to cry, but Lex cried more when she was hurt or when she was away from Ethan. Hannah would always offer hugs, but again, ‘I’m fine.’ Hannah didn’t understand the concept of lies. She was getting worried.

In the January of 2018, Ethan and Lex had taken Hannah to the doctor. They said she needed to get tested. Hannah was scared, but Ethan held her hand tightly. They’d gone to get the results and the results said she had a condition called autism. Hannah didn’t understand what that meant, but Lex cried back in the caravan. Ethan held her tightly and gently rocked her. “We have answers, babe. We have answers about everything. Why she gets bullied, why she acts the way she does. We have answers.” Hannah didn’t understand what Ethan was trying to say, but by what he was saying, maybe it was good. 

It seemed like every day Lex cried. Sometimes it was at a sad movie, sometimes it was when Hannah made her a drawing, sometimes it was when Ethan came over, sometimes it was when her mom hurt her, but she never cried harder until the few weeks before Black Friday. She was stressed, and Hannah didn’t understand why, but she could only imagine that it was because nobody could take care of Hannah _on_ Black Friday. Ethan hadn’t come over in a while, and whenever Hannah asked Lex, she got mad, or upset. Hannah went back to their cramped, shared room, and didn’t ask again.

When Ethan turned up at their door in the morning, Hannah was confused, but Lex sighed and let him in. He still grinned and head straight for Hannah. “Hey banana. I’m gonna take care of you on Black Friday while Lexi-“

“Lex.” Her old sister huffed

“Works! Isn’t that exciting?” Ethan said and Hannah’s eyes lit up. She nodded. She loved Ethan and loved having him around, but couldn’t understand why Lex was always mad at him lately. Still, Hannah hugged Ethan and Ethan smiled wide. “I love you, banana.”

“Love Ethan.” Hannah said.

* * *

On Black Friday 2018, Hannah was being babysat by Ethan. Today was a bad day, she was sure of it, and she knew it was a bad day. Ethan was getting fed up with her, when he slapped his hands down and stood up. “Come on, we’re gonna go see Lex. She gets off break in twenty.” Hannah didn’t have a choice but to follow him. She sat in the backseat and had to deal with his too-loud music, itching to clasp her hands over he ears. She couldn’t draw attention to herself, no. If she asked him to turn it down, she was seeking attention. She was bad, attention was bad. If she flinched, she’d draw attention to herself. Ethan was never this rough with her, and suddenly he was. Maybe Ethan wasn’t as nice as she wanted him to be.

He opened the car door and waited for her to hop out. She took longer than usual and she heard Ethan scoff. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the Lakeside Mall. She whimpered, and Ethan muttered something under his breath she couldn’t quite make out. What was she supposed to do? She stayed quiet. Webby was saying it again. _Bad blood, Cross, Black and White._ Hannah was only nine, she didn’t know what Webby was saying. Ethan told her to stay by the door, so she did. She heard Lex’s gasp from around the corner until she asked for Hannah. Hannah shrivelled back into her yellow plaid and folded her arms until Ethan came and got her. He dragged her inside, clutching her wrist. “Do I gotta put a leash on you like a dog, or my cousin Oliver?” He added the last bit quietly. Hannah didn’t know what it meant, but it upset her.

“Okay, don’t pull her!” Lex said. Ethan let go of her hand, and her arm dropped to her side.

“I’m not!” He said, nearly angrily, as he raised his hands in surrender. Hannah sat down on a box, and Lex crouched beside her.

“Hey, banana! Is today a good day or a bad day?” She asked. Hannah shook her head.

“Bad day.”

“Well, I don’t know who told you that because today is a good day! You know my backpack? The one with the pins on it? Well, today, you get to wear it!” Lex said, lifting up her bag and tried to put it on Hannah, who began to shake it.

“No!” Hannah cried, pushing it away from her. She didn’t know what was in that bag, but Webby told her it was dangerous.

“See what I mean? It’s been this, all day.” Ethan said from the stairs, and Hannah shrunk further down into her oversized clothing.

“Well, why don’t you wanna wear my backpack? That makes me sad. Do you think I have a bad backpack?” Her older sister watched Hannah’s expression as she hugged her stomach.

“I’m not supposed to…” Hannah said, honestly. Lex furrowed her eyebrows.

“Who says you’re not supposed to?” Lex asked. Hannah paused, remaining quiet for a little while before she spoke back up again. She was scared of how Ethan would react.

“Webby.” She said at last, hearing Ethan pipe up once again.

“Oh great. Now we gotta talk to the imaginary _spider_ from outer space.” He was clearly annoyed, and Lex shook her head, disapprovingly.

“What does Webby say?” Lex asked, taking Hannah’s hand. Hannah took more time.

“Bad blood…Cross…black and white…” She said. There was more silence, aside from the beeping nearby from trucks, before Ethan jumped up.

“Can you translate? I don’t speak crazy.” He said, heading toward the two.

Crazy. _Crazy. **Crazy.**_ Hannah Foster was crazy, and even Ethan thought so. Lex defended her, and she remembered being told about California, but she was so upset now. Ethan thought she was crazy, and Lex tried to push her to put on the bag. She hated the bag. She hated it. She hated it. She hated it.

But Hannah Foster wasn’t crazy. She knew that, when three men burst down the door to the Cineplex, she knew it was dangerous. “Hey, I think we’d better split, banana. Hey, are you alright?” Ethan asked one of the men, who screamed at him and punched Ethan in the gut. Ethan spit blood up on to the floor and Hannah started trembling.

Bad Blood, _Bad Blood, **Bad Blood.**_

Webby was right. Ethan told her to run, so she did. She ran to the play place by Marshall’s, and Webby told her Ethan died. She cried and cried as she hid before two people walked in. Their eyes were glowing green. Hannah recognised one of them as Mr Houston, Lex’s favourite teacher, but she didn’t recognise the lady. They chased her round the play place until she was in the food court where Mr Houston grabbed her. The lady then tried to stab Hannah with some blue gunk, but ended up stabbing herself. Mr Houston took the Wiggly doll and left.

But then, a cop and a crazy man came and took them to a woman called Linda. They’d finished their little ritual for the doll and Hannah was scared, but kept up a brave façade. She’d been told she was wanted dead by the ‘prophet.’ Then, the nurse lady lined up her shot and killed the prophet. Lex came down and lit one of the dolls on fire. Hannah hugged Lex’s side tightly as Mr Houston hugged her, and the nurse lady hugged Lex. Those in mourning scrambled for the burning doll, and Lex assisted her sister out of the Lakeside Mall.

But Hannah Foster wasn’t crazy. After the whooshing, Hannah had picked her up and rushed her to a car, and let someone drive her over. Lex worked on calming down a fearful Hannah. Hannah hadn’t wanted to be there. She wanted to be in California with Lex and Ethan. Ethan. Ethan was dead and he’d been mean to her. She sobbed and Lex hugged her. Hannah felt another hand on her shoulder. She opened her eyes and turned to the boot of the car where she saw a distorted, grey version of Ethan who smiled and said ‘what’s shakin’, banana?’ Hannah scream sobbed until they were at the biologist’s house. Lex asked what was wrong and Hannah shook.

“Ethan! Dead!” She said. Lex cried then. So many people in that house had gotten what they wanted, but Hannah hadn’t. Hannah wanted Ethan to be family. Ethan was dead.

_Bad blood, Cross, Black and White, Banana._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As someone with autism myself, the part where Hannah couldn't draw attention to herself is actually something very common with me. I hate being the centre of attention and it sucks but oH wELl

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully all these chapters make sense as the story progresses, but essentially it's a bit of backstory as to how each character ended up at Lakeside Mall to begin with.


End file.
